


Destress Time

by inamamagic



Category: All For One (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 11:46:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14056308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inamamagic/pseuds/inamamagic
Summary: AU: Portia’s MST President, Henry’s her VP. Work is time-consuming and stressful, but there are always ways to destress. Phone sex.





	Destress Time

‘Swamped’ is an understatement to describe Portia’s life right now. Saying ‘swamped is an understatement’ is also an understatement. 

It’s only two in the afternoon, and she’s already had to deal with the VP of Finance having a breakdown on the porch in front of a number of bemused passers-by, a pipe on the second floor bursting, and one of the Bigs, Jayne, falling out with her Little, Sarah. Portia suspects there’s sex involved there, but she can’t actually ask.

To top it off, she’s just gotten off the phone with two MST alums that feel like their opinions still carry more weight than they do. While Portia’s more than happy to have advice from alums and from anyone who wants to help her out, she’s starting to grow tired of being made to feel incompetent by two MST sisters who graduated from Dumas when she was still in diapers.

Her phone rings again and she grabs it and answers with a growl. “What?”

“Ok, woah.” It’s Henry. He’s been away for a week, which is probably why Portia’s been drowning so much. He’s meant to be back that afternoon. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Everything,” says Portia, her lower lip jutting out as she lets out a huge sigh. “Everything’s wrong.”

“Talk me through it,” he says. Portia puts a hand over her forehead. Her mind keeps grinding like a fork stuck in the trash disposal.

“I’m worried about Regina,” she says. “She just collapsed on the porch this morning and started screaming!”

“Regina’s fine,” says Henry. “Connie told me she’s resting now. She’s gonna be okay. Don’t worry, there are people who are more than able to take over for her if she needs it.”

“Are you sure?” Portia’s brow furrows and she clicks her tongue. “I’m so worried! She was crying so hard, I could barely hold onto her.”

“She’ll be fine.” Henry’s voice is smooth and low in her ear, and she finds her thoughts calming down. “What else?” he asks. “They’ve turned off the water upstairs for now and the girls are using the first and third floor bathrooms. Treville’s handling that, we’ll get it fixed by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. The inspectors are coming in to check if there’s water damage, but they girls have cleaned up the place for the most part.”

“Oh gosh…” Portia feels like she’s gonna cry. She backs into her desk and sighs. “That’s great to hear.”

“What else is up today?” asks Henry.

“Ugh,” huffs Portia. “Jayne and Sarah…”

“Mmm yeah, that’ll take some wrangling,” says Henry. “Don’t worry, we can get Alex to sort it out. She’s good at mediating things.”

“She really is.” Portia sighs again. The phone on her desk rings. “Oh, one sec.” She grabs it. “Portia Vallon, MST President. How many I help you?”

“Oh hello Portia dear!” Portia has to suppress a groan. It’s Abigail, one of the MST alums. She takes a breath and tries to smile.

“Hi Abigail!” She cringes. She can feel the crack in her tone.

“Abigail’s calling?” says Henry from her cellphone, because Portia has two phones up on both her ears. “Hang up.”

“What?” Portia hisses. “I can’t do that!”

“I was just calling to set up a meeting with you tomorrow, is three o’ clock alright with you?”

“Hang up Portia,” says Henry again. Portia shudders.

“I’m sorry Abigail, I’m so sorry, but I’ve gotta run, but I’ll call you back!”

“Alright dear I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Portia slams the phone down. She takes a deep breath and lets out a long moan.

“Hey,” says Henry. “Lock the door.”

“What?” Portia asks. Henry chuckles.

“Just go with it. Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then lock the door.”

Portia crosses the room and locks the door that leads out to the corridor. “Okay, done.”

“Now go sit down.”

She crosses the room again and settles into her chair. One of the best things about her office is the chair, high backed and soft, with just the right amount of firmness to keep her back from completely giving in. She hums softly and leans back.

“Now deep breaths. In…”

Portia breathes in.

“Out…”

She breathes out. In again through her nose, closing her eyes and unclenching the fist she didn’t realise she was clenching. Out again, this time letting out a sigh of content. In again a third time, because Henry asks her to. And out a final time.

“Feel better?” 

She can hear his smile on the other end of the line. Portia smiles too.

“Lots. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Portia lets out another sigh and rolls her shoulders, trying to stretch out the ache that seems to have settled almost permanently into her muscles. “I wish you were here to give me a back rub,” she murmurs.

“I can give you one when I see you,” says Henry, his voice dropping a little lower. “But I can give you something else right now.”

“Yeah?”

“If you want, obviously.” He clears his throat. Portia smiles.

“Sounds like something fun,” she says. “What is it?”

“Uh…” Henry clears his throat again, and Portia laughs. She knows where he’s going. They’ve done this before.

“I can’t believe you’re still shyer than I am about this,” she says.

“Hey!” he exclaims. “This is just… a little more risqué than what I’m used to doing with you.”

Portia snorts. “Like you’d ever back away from risqué.”

“I wouldn’t,” says Henry, his voice growing husky. “I just wish I was there with you.”

“Mmm?” says Portia, running a hand over her thigh. “I wish you were here too. It’s not as fun when you aren’t touching me.”

“God I wish I could touch you,” he murmurs.

“What would you do if you were here then?” asks Portia. “I’m wearing those panties you like. The lace ones.”

“Fuck - Porshe.”

Portia gathers her skirt up, enjoying the feel of the soft chiffon between her fingers. “I have my skirt up and my legs spread for you,” she purrs. “Miss having you between them.”

“You know I miss being between them more,” rasps Henry. “How does the lace feel?”

“Soft,” says Portia, a smirk growing on her face. Her fingers travel up till they’re trailing along the waistband of her panties. “You know they’re soft.”

“I know.” There’s a choked noise on the other end of the line and Portia’s smirk widens.

“Do you want me to wait for you to get here?” she whispers. “Or —”

“Start without me,” says Henry. “I want you to t - mmm…”

“Touch myself?” A quiet giggle escapes Portia’s lips as she slides her fingers over the smooth lace of her panties. “My my, Mr Abascale. The things you wish me to do!”

Henry just makes another choking noise and Portia grins. “Are you alone?” she asks.

“Well I was,” Henry mutters, a thread of irritation weaving through his tone. “But Dorothy and Connie are headed this way, just give me - hey! How’s it going?”

Portia laughs. “Perfect.”

“Perfect - Portia, what —”

Portia doesn’t let him finish his spluttering statement. She slips her hand into her panties, letting her finger slide through her wet slit, and she moans completely without shame. She knows the doors are soundproof.

Henry whines. “Portia…”

Portia can hear Dorothy chatting away in the background. Smiling, she continues, letting slow ripples of pleasure flicker through her.

“I miss your fingers babe,” she whispers, just as Henry says something to Dorothy. “But I miss your tongue more. I miss having you on your knees helping me… _relax_ …”

Henry stops talking to Dorothy and Connie in mid-sentence. “I gotta go,” he exclaims. Portia hears his hurried footsteps and panting as he walks away.

Portia giggles. “You took the fun out of it.”

“That was only fun for you,” mutters Henry, breathing hard. “Don’t stop though.”

“I’m not.” Portia rubs lazy circles over her clit and moves her hips a little lower on the seat so she can get comfortable. “I’m doing it the way you do it babe. Slow circles.”

“Yeah that always gets you wet for me doesn’t it,” Henry murmurs. “Slow enough to get you ready for my fingers, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Portia breathes, slipping a finger down and nudging it in slowly. She moves her finger up over her clit and back down again, shuddering as tingles ripple through her. 

“God I can’t wait to get to you,” says Henry. “You know I’d make you feel good. Kissing you all over, right on the side of your throat the way you like it.”

Portia shivers and sparks skitter over the skin of her throat. “What else would you do?”

“I’d slip your shirt off so I could touch you all over.” His voice is thick as he speaks. “I love the feel of your skin, it’s so smooth. You always feel so good.”

“So do you,” breathes Portia, her voice nothing less than a shudder now as she slips a finger inside. “I love it when you take your time. Kissing your way down my shoulder.”

“All the while keeping my fingers on your clit,” whispers Henry. “I love the way you feel Portia, and I love the way you sound. You’ve been keeping quiet. Your fingers not enough?”

Portia chuckles. “Just trying to save you some of your dignity.”

“I want to hear you,” says Henry, and Portia whimpers at this, pressing up harder, curling her finger up. Her back arches involuntarily and a moan escapes her throat.

“Fuck,” rasps Henry. “That’s hot babe.”

“Mmm.” Portia whimpers again. She speeds up a little more, her breathing growing shallower as she does. Her cunt throbs harder. Heat rushes through her entire body.

“I’ve missed your body so much,” Henry whispers. “You know I’m not gonna let you go once I see you again.”

“I don’t want you to,” Portia whispers. “I - fuck - Henry. I need you…” Her brow furrows and her breath hitches as she slows down again. “I need you, I need you touching me.” 

She shuts her eyes, imagining that it’s Henry in front of her now, his fingers in her cunt, kissing his way up her thighs and flicking his tongue over her clit. 

Portia flicks her thumb over her clit and whimpers. “Henry…”

“Slip your finger in,” says Henry breathlessly.

“I - I did…”

“Now rub your clit for me with your thumb.”

Portia does, arching her back again as a louder moan falls out of her lips. She needs to feel his body against her, she wants to be spread over the desk as he kisses his way down every inch of her skin till he gets between her legs —

“Fuck…” she whines, as her cunt clenches around her finger. “I’m close.”

“Good,” Henry breathes. “Keep going.”

Portia slides down a few more inches, not caring how she looks, legs spread and skirt up in her office where anyone who has a key could just barge right in. She’s too lost in the waves of pleasure that keep rushing up her body, and she curls her finger up again. “ _Fuck_ …”

“Wanna use two fingers for me babe?” Henry murmurs. Portia whimpers and nods, even though she knows he’s not there to see it - but god does she wish he was.

She slips her fingers out for a second and rubs two fingers over her clit, her breath hitching with each stroke. She’s practically dripping wet now, and she angles her hips up higher to get a better reach. Slowly nudging in with two fingers, she can’t stop herself from letting out a loud cry as they slide in. “Oh god…”

“Does it feel good babe?”

“So good…” Panting, Portia pauses to rub her clit with her thumb again. She cries out as her cunt throbs hard around her fingers. “What else do you want me to do?” she whispers.

She hears a scuffling noise and Henry seems to stop walking. The clicking of the door startles Portia, and she yelps and pulls her hand out of her panties and smooths her skirt down immediately.

Henry bursts through the door, cheeks flushed, breathing hard. “Sorry I didn’t knock,” he says. He hangs up the phone and puts it in his pocket, and Portia tosses her phone onto the table and stands up, hurrying to meet him. He locks the door behind him and strides up to her, grabbing her by the waist and kissing her in the middle of the room.

“You gotta help me finish,” Portia smiles against his lips. “I was so close.” Henry chuckles.

“My pleasure.”


End file.
